


For The Sky Above

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Flight of Fancy - McHanzo [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Past Torture, Promises, Secrets, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-20 04:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: McCree finally learns the truth about what had been done to Hanzo's wings, about the dreams that the archer clings to even now and he vows to find a way to give Hanzo the sky once more. Sequel to: Broken Wings





	1. Chapter 1

    It had been nearly a month since the day that Hanzo had been forced to reveal his wings to McCree, and while he had let his partner touch them that day, ever since he had kept them securely hidden once more and even gone out of his way to avoid the topic. If anything, he was even more tight-lipped on the issue than he had been before, something that would have driven McCree over the edge if it hadn’t been for the fact that the tension and distance that had slipped in between them seemed to have eased. There were times when the archer though that McCree wasn’t looking when he would sit there and watch him with a strange expression on his face, half-longing, half-anguished and it made McCree long to know what was playing through his mind at those times. He didn’t push the issue though. As much as he ached to touch Hanzo’s wings again, to see those beautiful, shimmering feathers and feel them between his fingers, he didn’t push, because he couldn’t forget how they’d looked - the damage that something or more worryingly someone had done to those beautiful wings. He doubted that Hanzo was ready to tell him about what had happened, and if he was honest, he wasn’t sure that he was ready to hear it, a burning spark of anger rising whenever his thoughts so much as drifted in that direction.

     It was those doubts and the fact that Hanzo refused to so much as mention the issue. Which left McCree stunned when he woke abruptly that night, unsure of what had disturbed his sleep as he stared blearily at the ceiling for a moment, blindly reaching out for Hanzo, just to pause when he realised that his partner wasn’t curled up at his side like he should be. Instead, when he pushed himself up, a flicker of panic driving the last traces of sleep from his mind as he reached out to turn on the bedside light, he was startled to find Hanzo sat on the end of the bed, head buried in his hand and those wings. The wings that had been consuming his thoughts even before he had seen them for the first time were spread out behind him.

    For a long minute, he couldn’t speak, part of him wondering whether this was yet another dream, teasing him - tempting him. But then Hanzo moved, just enough to tilt his head so that he could peer over his shoulder at McCree. There was a wariness to the gaze that reminded McCree painfully of the early days of their relationship when Hanzo had constantly been waiting for something to happen, something to go wrong. However, it paled in comparison to the longing in the dark eyes, and it was that which gave him the courage to inch forward as he fought to get his voice to work, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of trust that Hanzo was showing him.

“Hanzo…” He swallowed thickly, holding out his hand but stopping just shy of brushing the feathers, falling silent for a moment, mesmerised by the way they shimmered with the slightest movement from his partner. “Can I?” He asked breathlessly. _Please say yes,_ he wanted – needed to touch them, but he waited, forcing himself to hold still, barely breathing as he waited to see if Hanzo would give him permission. It felt like hours had passed, but finally, Hanzo gave a nod, just the tiniest incline of his head and McCree released his breath in a rush, before reaching out and gently, oh so gently, running his fingers over the feathers. As close as they were, it was impossible for him to miss the shiver that worked its way through his partner or the shudder that followed and he paused. “Is this okay?” He didn’t want to stop, even though he could feel the now familiar spark of anger welling up in his chest as his gaze slid to the damaged parts, but he waited patiently once more until Hanzo nodded again, more confidently this time before returning to his ministrations.

    Hanzo arched into the gentle touch, pushing his wing closer, silently demanding more even as a soft noise bubbled up in the back of his throat and McCree felt his mouth go dry at the noise.  It was the same sound that he’d made the first time he’d truly let Hanzo touch his wings, a sound that he had started to think that he would never get to hear from his partner. He felt his lips quirking up into a smile as the noise came again, gathering his confidence as he reached out with his other hand so that he could stroke both wings at once.

“Jesse…” McCree smirked at the soft moan, fully aware of how overwhelming it was to have both of your wings stroked and caressed at once, Hanzo having used that very tactic to reduce him to a boneless heap on more than one occasion…he couldn’t even imagine how intense the feeling must be after having your wings hidden for so long. Running his fingers through the soft, undamaged feathers at the top he inched forwards until he was flush up against Hanzo’s back, and this time he was the one to shiver as he felt Hanzo’s muscles ripping as his wings shifted, leaning closer so that he could trail kisses around the base of Hanzo’s wings.

“When was the last time someone touched your wings? Before me I mean…” He couldn’t stop himself from asking as Hanzo whined at the sensation, pressing back against him even as his wings shivered and shook. It had been the wrong thing to ask. It took him barely a second to realise that, the soft noises cutting off abruptly as Hanzo went rigid and even as he cursed up a storm in his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Hanzo’s neck, trying to draw him back to the present. “Hanzo?” There was still no response, and fear was beginning to set in as he pulled his fingers away from the feathers in favour of snaking his arms around Hanzo’s waist and pulling the smaller man closer, peppering kisses against the smooth skin of his shoulder. “Sweetheart?” The nickname earned him a slight reaction, Hanzo slumping back against him, and while it wasn’t the reaction he had wanted, he was willing to take it for now. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” _Damn it…_ It felt too much like the early days of their friendship, when the slightest wrong word or move could set them back half a dozen steps. Only now there was more at risk, more that he could lose, and he couldn’t help but tighten his grip on Hanzo at that thought.

_I can’t lose him._

    He wasn’t sure if it was the frantic apologies or his almost desperate grip, but finally, Hanzo stirred in his arms. His hands were trembling, but his grip was firm as he reached down to where McCree’s hands were clenched tightly together against Hanzo’s stomach as though it would be enough to stop him from fleeing, tentatively grasping them.

“It’s not your fault.” It was the same fragile tone that Hanzo had used the day he had been forced to reveal his wings and McCree hated the fact that this time he was the one who had caused it, half expecting Hanzo to try and escape now that he had attempted to reassure him. Instead, Hanzo shivered, fingers tightening against McCree’s hands to a point where it was almost painful, but he made no move to shake his partner off, breath catching at the desperate plea that followed. “Please, Jesse…I…please.” McCree had a feeling that Hanzo didn’t really know what he was asking for either and he hesitated for half a moment before gently gathering the archer in his arms, mindful of the delicate wings as he began to pull Hanzo backwards, his own wings emerging as they moved.

    By the time, they fell back against the pillows, McCree’s broad wings were spread and waiting, and as soon as they were laid back in a relatively comfortable position, he moved, wrapping them both up in the tawny expanse. The feel of Hanzo’s wings against his was just as overwhelming as it had been back then, and from the way, Hanzo shifted at the sensation he wasn’t the only one who was feeling it, but neither of them commented on it as they settled down. Hanzo was still tense in his arms, even as his head came to rest against McCree’s chest, right above his heart so that he could listen to the sound of his heart beating. It was a sound that had soothed him many times before, and it was a nervous gesture, and McCree sighed before dropping his head so that he could press a kiss to the dark hair.

“Easy, I’ve got you,” he murmured softly, soothingly, drawing his wings closer around his partner. “I’ve got you.”

     The silence that followed gave him a chance to contemplate what he’d asked and why it had caused this kind of reaction, and he didn’t like where his thoughts were taking him. Especially as he felt the coarseness of the damaged wings catching on his own as Hanzo shifted, pressing closer and clinging to him as though he was the only thing keeping him grounded. Which he probably was he realised, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. _When was the last time someone touched your wings?_ What had he been thinking of asking a question like that? Hanzo’s reluctance to show his wings, and the way he had cowered, expecting McCree to push him away when he had first seen his wings should have been enough to make him think before he spoke and he growled under his breath. He really was an idiot…

“I was fifteen…” Hanzo’s voice broke the silence, and McCree froze, stunned that Hanzo had been the first to break the silence, even as the angry spark from before became an inferno as the implications of what Hanzo was saying set in…fifteen…probably only a year or two at most since his wings had matured to the point of being able to carry his weight, the age when most people learned to fly, to embrace the freedom that their wings afforded them. “I was fifteen, the last time someone touched them. When they…” Hanzo trailed off with a choked noise, trembling worse than ever as he pressed his face further into McCree’s chest, making it impossible for him to miss the dampness against his skin and he growled, gathering Hanzo as close as he possibly could.

“It’s okay,” he growled, his tone harsher than he had intended, his anger still burning bright and he forced himself to take a deep breath when Hanzo flinched at his tone. He took another breath, forcing himself to soften his tone as he tried to continue. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Hanzo cut him off, the waver in his voice doing little to reassure McCree that he was ready to talk about this, but he didn’t protest, instead letting his head fall to rest against Hanzo as he settled in to wait. Hanzo was clinging to his hands again, and this time his grip was painful, but he didn’t protest or try to ease his grip. After all, he had clung just as tightly to Hanzo on the nights when he had woken screaming from his own nightmares, and he had a feeling that whatever Hanzo was going to tell him was going to be worse than what his mind could call up in the middle of the night. “I-I was fifteen…”

    _He was soaring high above Hanamura, taking advantage of the balmy, summer breeze as he twisted and turned in the air, barely aware of the beautiful view stretching out beneath him. As much as he loved his home and the soft, cloud-like forests of sakura that filled the area around the castle, it was nothing compared to this. To the exhilaration of flying, of being free. He had always been envious for as long as he could remember, watching the adults when they flew, abandoning the ground with just a few strong beats of their wings, but he had never imagined how it would feel once he could do the same. It was a feeling that he could never get enough of. Even the fact that Genji would spend hours griping at him, hating the fact that his own wings had yet to develop to the point where he could fly too, wasn’t enough to dent his joy or make him spend more time on the ground._

_On the ground, his wings were a mixed blessing. On the one hand, they promised him this freedom, this escape, however temporary from the burden of being the heir to the Shimada clan, of being the perfect son and older brother. But on the other, they were a curse, the shimmering blue-black of his feathers which were considered an ill omen in many cultures was considered a sign of power by the clan. In their eyes, it just reaffirmed his ‘destiny’ to lead them, and their expectations that he would be able to lift the clan to even greater heights._

_However, instead of earning him more power or respect, it had increased the scrutiny that he constantly found himself under. According to them, he had a duty to protect himself and his wings, to marry well and to try and bring his rare wings into the bloodline - and it had also increased the danger he was in. The Shimadas had many enemies as it was, but as news of his wings had spread, the number of attempts on his life had more than doubled. Anything to try and stop their clan from gaining even more power and influence._

_Even now as he turned in the air, he could hear the whistle being blown from down below, calling him back in as he was the only one in the air right now, and he sighed as he glanced down. He knew that he would be in for yet another lecture about going off on his own, and probably another attempt from the elders to get him to promise to stay on the ground. It was a promise he had yet to make and one that he was desperate to avoid, because he needed this, this one small freedom. Yet even as he found himself swearing that he would never give this up, he found himself obediently folding his wings and speeding earthwards. A small, wistful part of him wondering what would happen - what his family would do if he didn’t go back if he just kept flying, if he turned around right now and flew for as long and far as his wings could carry him. It would never happen, it was just a dream, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from wondering._

_What would it be like to be truly free?_

_**_

_It had been nearly three months later when everything had come crashing down on him. It was too much. Too much pressure to be the perfect everything, too much blood already staining his hands as the clan tried to mould him into the perfect heir._

_In the end, it was an argument, a silly little argument with Genji - the only thing they seemed capable of doing these days as the expectations they both faced started to come between them, that had been the breaking point. Hanzo was barely aware of the way his voice had broken mid-shout, the tears building in his eyes as he had turned and fled. He could hear Genji, the anger in his voice replaced with concern as his brother chased after him, but it wasn’t enough to make him look back, let alone stop. He needed to get away, to escape. He had barely set foot outside in the courtyard before his wings emerged, ruining his gi, but he didn’t care, realising that there were other voices raised against him now. With a strong beat of his wings he took to the air, pushing himself upwards as fast he could, not focusing on anything but getting away from everything._

“I had always stopped on the outskirts of the city before,” Hanzo whispered, coming back to the present with a sigh, picking up on the tension in McCree’s body as his partner waited patiently for him to continue, relaxing his grip slightly on the other man’s hands. “That day I didn’t, I kept going and going…until my wings gave out.”

_He had never been so terrified before when his wings, aching and trembling from over-exertion had given way, no longer able to support his weight and he found himself plummeting earthwards. Only sheer desperation had given him the strength to slow his fall, although the impact had still left him stunned and curled up on the ground in the middle of nowhere. It had dawned on him then what he had done, what he had left behind. But even though he had nowhere else to go, nothing but the clothes on his back and the small knife that his father had insisted he carry everywhere, he realised that he had no intention of going back._

“I was a fool.” McCree frowned at the bitterness behind those words, the self-loathing tone that had gradually begun to fade away as Hanzo settled into Overwatch and began to believe that Genji was actually able to forgive him. Carefully he eased his hands out of Hanzo’s tightening grip, gently grasping the archer’s hand with one of his and letting his other drift to Hanzo’s wings, ghosting over the damaged feathers for a moment, before tenderly stroking his finger along one of them. He was more convinced than ever that he didn’t want to know what had happened, dread pooling in his stomach as he sensed that they were getting closer, but he didn’t let that stop him, continuing to gently stroke Hanzo’s feathers before gently nudging him.

“Tell me.”

“There was nowhere to hide from the clan,” Hanzo’s voice had dropped until it was barely audible, and McCree had a feeling that it was only his request that was giving his partner the strength to continue and he almost wished that he could take the words back. “They had eyes and ears everywhere, but I thought that I could avoid them. That I could be free.”   

_It had been exhilarating in a completely different way from flying to find himself free of the clan, free of the expectations that he didn’t want, free of the endless lessons and the tension that had sprung up between him and Genji.  And while he knew that sooner or later he was going to have to stop and seriously consider what he was going to do, he had been trying to savour the experience as much as he could. Perhaps it had been that which had lowered his guard, or maybe it had been because he hadn’t thought that they would be able to find him that quickly, daring to hope that maybe they would realise he wasn’t the heir they wanted and would let him go._

_He should have known better…_

_He hadn’t even known they were there, his only warning was a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye and the sound of his Dragons crying out in warning, and then the whole world had gone black as pain exploded in the back of his head._

_By the time, he had regained consciousness he’d been back in the Castle. Only he hadn’t been back in his own quarters, but back in one of the cells where they normally held prisoners, aa cell where he had been forced to stain his hands with blood on more than one occasion. Terror had gripped him then, reality crashing down on him, along with the enormity of what he had done. He knew that there was no way his actions would be left unpunished, and so he had sat and waited, heart, hammering in his chest._

   McCree felt Hanzo tensing, his breathing coming sharp and fast as he pressed his face against him, and he half thought that Hanzo was going to stop. Instead, he just lay there for a couple of minutes, trying and failing to get his breathing back under control, fingers clutching painfully at McCree’s hand again before a soft sob slipped free. The quiet noise of distress the only thing he would allow himself and only with McCree and McCree’s scowled, heart aching at the sound. He had thought that his hatred for the Shimada Clan, for what they had done to Hanzo and Genji had known no bounds, but he could feel it burning hot and bright, swelling even before he knew exactly what they had done. He must’ve made some noise because Hanzo stiffened for a moment, before nudging his chest with his nose, a gesture of reassurance for them both, not that it did much good because his next words shattered any reassurance that McCree could have drawn from it.

“They took my freedom,” Hanzo’s voice wavered and cracked, and McCree ceased his gentle stroking for a moment, worried that it might make it worse.

_He had been left alone in the cell for two days, the servant who had brought him food and drink had completely ignored him, and he hadn’t even been able to draw any comfort from the fact that they clearly wanted him alive. Then they had come for him…_

_Genji hadn’t been there, nor was his mother, and for that he was grateful. But the elders were there, watching him with tangible disappointment, although that had paled in comparison to the completely blank expression on his father’s face. His father had never been expressive, but there had always been something in his expression to show that he saw Hanzo, that he acknowledged him as having some value and now that had disappeared completely. He wasn’t given a chance to speak, not that he would have tried, terror silencing him along with the knowledge that his words would have fallen on deaf ears. He knew how his family operated and mercy played no part in it. Instead, he struggled to focus on their words, on their judgement, their words swimming in and out of focus, the hammering of his heat making it hard for him to hear anything._

_It hadn’t been until he had found himself being forced down onto his knees, rough hands pressing on his shoulders until he had unfolded his wings that he had realised what they were doing. His wings had value, but they didn’t need to be functioning. He had fought then, struggling against the hands holding him down, forgetting all about holding his silence as he begged and pleaded with them to do anything else to him, tears streaming down his cheeks. His words trailing off with a shriek when he had felt the first slash, thrashing as pain flooded through his sensitive wing, lifting blurry eyes to see his father looming over him with a bloody blade in his hand and at that moment the fight had gone out of him._

_If his own father could do this to him…_

“My father did it himself,” Hanzo murmured, shivering as he remembered how his father’s expression hadn’t shifted once during the whole ordeal and how the man had just walked away at the end of it, as though it was no concern of his that his son was bleeding out on the floor. What had made it worse was that the next time they had seen each other, things had been painfully normal, as though Hanzo hadn’t tried to escape. As though his father hadn’t taken the thing that meant most to him. “He left me just enough to be able to save myself from a tight spot, but not enough to fly properly.”

    McCree’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, a low growl building up in the back of his throat as he curled his arms tightly around Hanzo. He had known that he wasn’t going to like what he was going to hear, but this…

     He snarled, hating the fact that the man who had done this was long dead and that there wasn’t enough left of the Shimada clan for him to avenge his partner. All he could do was hold on as he felt Hanzo’s tears landing on his skin, another sob shaking the archer and another, and his anger faded slightly as he gathered Hanzo as close as humanly possible and pressed gentle, soothing kisses to the top of his head.

“I miss it.” The quiet admission made him pause. “The sky, and the freedom. Even if I don’t have anything to escape from anymore, I miss it. Isn’t it foolish?” The fact that Hanzo no longer felt he needed to escape would have warmed McCree at any other time, but right now all he could focus on was the longing in his partner’s voice. IT was a longing he could understand. It was nice to no longer be on the run and to need his wings to save his life every other day, but he didn’t think he could cope if he lost the ability to just take the air when he wanted to, his stomach twisting unpleasantly at the mere thought of it. And yet Hanzo had lived with that reality for years. “These broken wings of mine were barely enough to save you, and yet I still think about being able to fly with them again.”

“It’s not foolish,” the words burst out of him before he could stop them, not that he really wanted to, a fresh burst of anger lending him volume. What had Hanzo’s family said to him to make him think that he couldn’t even have dreams? Shifting he pulled away just enough to be able to turn Hanzo, gently tugging at him until Hanzo looked up at him and he hesitated for a moment as he took in the pain swimming in the dark eyes and the tear tracks staining his cheeks.  “Hanzo.” Gently he wiped at the damp trails, brushing them away before leaning in to kiss him softly, before leaning their foreheads together as he repeated himself, desperate to make Hanzo believe him. “It’s not foolish!” He could see that Hanzo didn’t believe him and he sighed, wrapping his arms around him once more, letting his gaze drift down to the tattered wings resting within the protection of his own.

_Hanzo, I don’t know how, but I’m going to give you back that freedom._


	2. Chapter 2

    It had been a long night. McCree hadn’t managed to doze off for more than a few minutes at a time, unable to quell the fury he felt over what had been done to Hanzo, his mind racing as he tried to think of some way to fix this. There were always mechanical solutions, suits like the one that Angela and Fareeha used, but they both had wings. The mechanics were there for protection in battle nothing more, and while it might give Hanzo access to the sky, it wasn’t what McCree wanted. He sighed, glancing at the dark wings that were nestled against his, aching to reach out and stroke them again but not wanting to risk disturbing Hanzo again now that his partner had finally dozed off again. Instead, he settled for staring at the inky feathers, barely able to make out the damage in the limited lighting, but he could feel it, and he growled under his breath. No, he didn’t want a mechanical solution, he wanted Hanzo to be able to fly again with his own wings.  He just wished that he knew how…

    Hanzo slept for a little while, exhausted after their conversation and the emotional storm that had come with it, but it was a restless sleep, frequently interrupted by nightmares and McCree’s anger was fanned by the quiet pleas that escaped as Hanzo twisted and turned in the grip of his memories. All he could do was hold on to his partner, wrapping his wings as tightly as he could around them both, whispering reassurances and promises that everything was going to be okay - hating that at the moment all he had was words. Still, it seemed to be enough for now because Hanzo would gradually settle against him, curling into him whether awake or asleep and that helped to ease the storm building in McCree’s chest.

    Still, when morning eventually came, they were both exhausted. Hanzo who was usually a morning person, always rising before the alarm even went off, snarled when the alarm blared in their ears, booting it off the table with the tip of his wing and burying his face against McCree with a low groan. McCree almost chuckled at the gesture, remembering all the times he had grumbled at Hanzo and begged him to spend longer in bed, but not for this reason and he sighed gathering his partner close again and pressing his lips to the top of Hanzo’s head.

    They stayed like that, curled together, not speaking and not sleeping for a while. There were no missions planned that day, unless urgent information came in and Winston hadn’t mentioned anything about training, and McCree was inclined to blow it off even if it did come up, especially after Hanzo’s reluctance to rise. A day in bed, curled with Hanzo sounded like bliss right now. At least until his stomach growled loudly in the silence, making them both tense for a moment before Hanzo lifted his head with a watery chuckle.

“Breakfast?” The reluctance in his expression was clear to see, and McCree didn’t need the words to know that Hanzo wasn’t ready to deal with the others just yet. There was a storm in the dark eyes, something that McCree had learned through observation meant that memories were too close to the surface, and feeling the shiver that worked through the dark wings pressed to his it wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking about.

“I can go and fetch us something?” He knew that was the right thing to say when relief crossed Hanzo’s face, and he was rewarded with a slight smile and a chaste kiss, Hanzo’s breath warm against his skin when he pulled back.

“Thank you…”

**

     McCree hadn’t bothered to dress properly, merely folding his wings away and yanking on the first t-shirt that came to hand, the tightness informing him that it belonged to Hanzo. Well, that and the snort from the bed, although the amusement didn’t detract from the heated glance when he turned to look at his partner, and he smirked, blowing him a kiss before slipping out of the door. The irritated huff that he caught before the door closed between them making him smile, it had been more subdued than normal, but it had been a glimpse of normality, and he was relieved to know that the previous night hadn’t caused too much of a setback…although the fact that it was subdued at all left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and he hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the door, reluctant to leave even though he knew that Hanzo was safe.

    Eventually he made his made way into the kitchen, his attire and no doubt exhausted appearance earning him a mixture of wolf-whistles and disgusted looks from the younger agents, and amused glances from the older members, although Angela frowned at him disapprovingly and he hastily turned away before she could start lecturing him on proper sleep patterns. Let them think his exhaustion was from other activities, it was much better than them learning the truth - he would need to ask Hanzo, but somehow, he doubted that even Angela knew about the state of his wings and there was no way McCree was willing to break his confidence. He should have known it wasn’t that easy though, jumping slightly when an armoured hand appeared in his line of sight, adding a cup of green tea to the tray he was filling with food. He glanced up to find Genji staring at him, mask lifted so that he could see the concern in the dark eyes that were so similar and yet so different to Hanzo’s.

“Is everything all, right?” It was barely a whisper of sound, the words meant for his ears only, and once again he was struck by how quiet Genji could be when he desired. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that Genji would pick up on a lie, especially as it concerned his brother. Even after all the time apart and the slow rebuilding of their relationship he seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Hanzo, and after a moment he sighed and shook his head. There was no point in lying, as soon as Genji set eyes on Hanzo he would see the truth and then he would be stuck with a prickly Ninja for the next week or so. “Is my brother okay?”

“It was a long night,” McCree murmured, just as quietly, forcing his hands to remain steady as he collected the last couple of bits he wanted, hesitating for a moment before adding grimly.  “Nightmares.” That much was true at least, if Genji happened to think that it was about the clan then that was true as well, it just wasn’t about what the clan had forced Hanzo to do to him - for once. He heard the vents whooshing, and then Genji sighed and stepped away.

“Tell him I will be meditating later if he wants to join me.” It was something they had started doing together months ago, although he knew that the meditating was often abandoned in favour of talking, either trying to get to know one another again or reminiscing about what happy memories or at least neutral memories that they could muster. Maybe it would help today, even if Hanzo wasn’t ready to tell his brother about what had been done to his wings and he nodded, he would tell Hanzo and let him decide, although he pouted slightly at the thought of losing the quiet afternoon he had been planning. “You could always join us?” Genji added a hint of mischief in his voice this time, as the one and only time McCree had tried to meditate with them he had fallen asleep and proceeded to distract them both by snoring loudly.

“I think I’ll pass,” McCree muttered, colouring slightly at the memory, neither of them had let him live that one down. “I’ll let Hanzo know.” He gathered the tray, balancing it carefully and turned to leave, only to pause when Genji grabbed his wrist.

“Look after him.”

“Always.” A tiny part of him was offended that Genji would even suggest that he wouldn’t, but overriding that was the relief that there was someone else who worried about Hanzo as much as he did. His answer seemed to be enough, the hand disappearing before Genji moved off and dropped into a debate that had started up between Lucio and Hana. Shaking his head as Hana yelled something at Genji he hastily fled the kitchen before he could be caught by anyone else.

**

    Hanzo was sat up on the bed, McCree’s serape wrapped around him for warmth and McCree bit back a sigh when he realised that the dark wings had been hidden away once more. He didn’t say anything though, settling on the bed beside him and setting the tray of food between them and picking up his mug of coffee while he relayed Genji’s offer. He didn’t miss the flicker of fear when Hanzo thought he might have told Genji what was happening, and the relief that he hadn’t filing it away for later. If his partner were that reluctant to let Genji, the one person who would understand about being destroyed by the clan, know the truth then it would be even harder to get him to seek help from others. Whatever, McCree decided to do he was going to have to do it under the radar.

    They ate in silence, too tired and too caught up in their own thoughts to talk like they normally would, only the fact that Hanzo had shifted at some point to press against his side reassured him that the silence wasn’t a bad sign.

“I’m sorry.” Surprisingly Hanzo was the first to break the silence once they were done, finishing the last mouthful of his tea and setting the cup down before looking at McCree who had frozen at the apology, mind racing as he tried to work out what his partner was apologising for. There was nothing that had been done or said that warranted an apology, and his confusion must’ve shown in his face because the archer sighed, before reaching up and resting a hand on his own shoulder, trembling fingers brushing against the bumps that marked where his wings were. “I should not have burdened you with what had happened, or my silly dreams.”

“Hanzo…”

“That’s what you’re thinking about, isn’t it?” Hanzo demanded, and McCree couldn’t lie to him, reaching out to brush his fingers against the top of Hanzo’s trembling ones even as he nodded. “Forget about it,” Hanzo muttered softly, leaning back into the gentle touch for a moment before pulling away and meeting McCree’s gaze once more. “It is nothing but a dream, I am not unhappy with the life I have now. And I saved you, that is enough.” He sounded sincere, but there was a resigned edge to his voice that told McCree that he thought that was all he could have, all that he deserved and he fought back a growl because it wasn’t enough. Nothing but giving Hanzo back what had been taken from him would ever be enough in McCree’s mind.

“But…” _It’s not enough…_

“Please.” The quiet plea silenced him, it was rare that Hanzo would ask him outright for anything and generally he was helpless in the face of that word. But this was different, this wasn’t Hanzo asking just to be held after a nightmare, or pleading with him to join him on the practice range when they should have been sleeping - this wasn’t something he was willing to let go. But Hanzo was trembling, it was barely noticeable, but McCree had made it his purpose in life to notice what would normally go unseen with his partner and after a moment he nodded.

“Fine.” Outwardly he appeared calm, agreeable, inside a storm was raging. _I’m sorry Hanzo, but I can’t let this go,_ e thought as he stared at Hanzo, remembering the pain and longing when he had spoken about the sky and being able to fly. That image was more powerful than any plea that Hanzo could make because it had been real and heartfelt.

     Thankfully Hanzo seemed content with his answer, a fleeting smile, one that didn’t quite manage to reach his eyes crossing his lips as he leant in to kiss McCree. “Thank you.” It was hard not to flinch or pull away, knowing that he had no intention of dropping it, but he didn’t, returning the kiss and managing to look disappointed when Hanzo pulled away although it was short lived when the archer moved the tray across to the bedside table so that he could curl against him. “I think that I will seek out Genji later, is that all right?”

“Of course.” He was still disappointed at the thought of losing some of their time together, but it would give him time to mull things over in private and to start his research without Hanzo being any the wiser. He tried to tell himself that the soft look that greeted his answer only played a tiny part in the decision, he didn’t manage to convince himself, willingly wrapping his arms around Hanzo. “But later?” He asked to make sure, knowing that they both needed to sleep, relieved at the small nod and burying his head against Hanzo’s with a soft hum. “Good.”

****

     It turned out to be much later, as the afternoon was well advanced when they finally woke again, both feeling more rested and McCree was relieved that Hanzo seemed to have slept without nightmares this time, although there was a lingering shadow in the dark eyes as Hanzo moved around the room getting ready to seek out his brother. McCree had no intention of going anywhere at the moment, so he lounged on the bed, watching Hanzo dress, tawny eyes lingering when Hanzo’s back was too him, imaging the dark wings trailing behind him.

“Will you be back for dinner?”

“Are you cooking?” Hanzo glanced at him, and McCree grinned at the hope in the dark eyes. It was a well-kept secret as he didn’t want to end up cooking more than he had to according to the kitchen rota, but the years of living alone on the run had forced him to learn to cook properly. He hadn’t thought anything of it, although it had been worth it to see the surprise on Ana’s face the first time it had been his turn to cook, the older woman no doubt remembering his disastrous attempts when he had first joined Blackwatch. However, Hanzo – despite his ‘refined’ upbringing, couldn’t seem to get enough of his cooking, and his voice was warm as he met Hanzo’s gaze.

“If you want.”

“Please.” Hanzo moved back to him, leaning down to steal another kiss, and McCree could feel the small smile against his lips, and he hummed in question, knowing that there was more to come. “And dessert?”

“Now sweetheart,” McCree scolded without heat, reaching out to grasp Hanzo’s hands to stop him from escaping even as he peered up at him. “You can’t expect me to cook everything.” Desserts were one of the few things he couldn’t cook well, apart from Churros and he was reluctant to make those these days as it called to mind memories that were best left undisturbed. He was really going to have to learn how to make some others though, because Hanzo had a sweet tooth unlike any he had ever seen, and he blinked, expecting to see disappointment in the dark eyes, but the archer was smirking down at him.

“Who said anything about cooking?”

*****

    Genji opened his eyes as he felt Hanzo shifting again. His brother had joined him half an hour ago, looking much calmer than he had expected after his conversation with McCree that morning, but it had been clear that something was bothering him. It was there in the almost silent greeting, and the way Hanzo had seemed to look everywhere but him, but he had let it go, knowing that it was better to let his brother open up in his own time. At the time, it had seemed to be the right action as Hanzo had settled beside him on the ledge overlooking the watchpoint, their knees touching, and his eyes drifting shut without encouragement as he’d tried to sink into meditation. Something that seemed to be alluding him, and after another minute of observing Hanzo he spoke.

“You seem distracted today.” It had been a long time since he had seen his brother this distracted. It had been like this at the start when he had encouraged Hanzo to join him for meditation, his brother constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for him to lash out, and show him the anger and hate that he felt he deserved, and it had taken a long time to get to the point where Hanzo had been able to fully relax beside him.

“I…” Hanzo jolted, opening his eyes and meeting his gaze for a moment before his eyes darted away, and Genji frowned as he caught the tremor that worked its way through his brother. “I’m sorry.” Genji scowled, the apology had been heartfelt, but it was completely different from the broken apologies that came whenever the past overwhelmed his brother - this was something different. He had known it from the moment he had spoken to McCree that morning, but he hadn’t wanted to demand answers from the gunslinger when it had been clear that he was reluctant to betray Hanzo’s trust.

“What for?” He asked after a moment, holding up a hand to stop the answer that he could see brewing in Hanzo’s eyes, before gesturing down at himself.  “Don’t try and tell me that it’s about this. I know it’s not.”

“Genji….” Hanzo sighed, fighting with himself for a moment before his shoulders sank in defeat, before shaking his head.  “I can’t tell you, not yet at least…” There was a silent plea in his voice, for Genji to understand, to wait until he was ready to talk - to forgive him and Genji sighed, wondering if his brother would ever truly accept the fact that he had forgiven him. He turned his head away for a moment, pretending to think as he gazed out over the base. When Hanzo had first joined Overwatch he would have insisted on at least trying to get his brother to tell him, but things had changed, Hanzo was no longer alone, he had someone else who could help him, and he nodded to himself before turning back to look at his anxious brother.

“Does McCree know?” It was a silly question really, he had never known Hanzo to be as open with anyone as he was McCree and he was unsurprised when he got a tiny nod in response. “Good, then at least you’re not alone.” He couldn’t quite mask the hurt, the wish that Hanzo could trust in him as much as he trusted McCree and he hated himself for it, jumping when Hanzo reached out, cautiously resting a hand on his knee and shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t have told him…” Hanzo admitted softly, and there was nothing but sincerity in the dark eyes - sincerity and pain, as he glanced away. “I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“I’m glad you did.” _Even if it isn’t me,_ he admitted to himself, reaching down and briefly grasping his brother’s hand to show that he accepted the situation for now. “Now, I doubt either of us is going to be able to meditate now. How about we make use of the training range, it’s been a while since we tested our skills against one another?” Hanzo’s relief was palpable as he rose to his feet with a nod, hesitating for a moment before offering Genji a hand up and that gesture alone was enough to remind Genji of how far they had come, and despite his continued worry there was a small smile on his lips as he let his brother pull him up.

****

     McCree grumbled under his breath as he stared at the tablet screen, he was laid sprawled on their bed, playing with a dark feather that he had found caught in the covers, turning it over and over in his fingers as he stared at the writing on the screen. He had set the alarm on the door, not wanting Hanzo to catch him breaking his word, eyes narrowed as he flicked from one article to the next, searching for something - anything that would give him an idea on how to keep the promise he had made, to give Hanzo back the freedom of the sky. There was plenty of information available on artificial wings, the technology had grown by leaps and bounds over the years to the point where Angela’s Valkyrie suit could be considered old-fashioned, and while he admired the work, it wasn’t what he was looking for. They were designed to replace wings that had been lost completely, or armoured suits for the military and similar organisations to protect their agents in battle, but for wings like Hanzo’s, wings that were damaged but still able to function to some extent there was nothing.

     Hanzo couldn’t be the only one in need of a solution like this. McCree could remember seeing agents in the infirmary at the height of Blackwatch, agents whose wings had been torn apart during firefights, the damage not bad enough to call for amputation, but bad enough to stop them flying. Why had no one found a solution for them? Unless...he paused, glancing down at his arm - there was one person he knew who had always looked for solutions that no one else bothered to look for, one person who might be able to help him in his search. _But…_ Hanzo didn’t want anyone else to know, that much had been clear and while McCree had spent enough time as a covert agent that he could lie his way through most things, he had never been able to hide anything from Angela. Especially when that something was related to his partner, and he groaned as he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

     He didn’t know if she would even have the answers he needed, but right now it seemed to be his best hope, and he couldn’t get to it, unless…. unless he somehow managed to convince the most stubborn man he had ever met to let him reach out for help. He snorted at that, knowing that it would be a miracle if he could convince Hanzo to let him talk to her, and yet, his fingers tightened around the dark feather - he had to try.

 


End file.
